


Saviors of the World(and Dogs)

by StackerPentecost



Category: Marvel, The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Assassins & Hitmen, Bisexual Frank Castle, Dogs, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Pansexual Billy Russo, Sharing a Bed, they're essentially murder husbands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2019-07-01 00:22:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15762768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StackerPentecost/pseuds/StackerPentecost
Summary: Frank and Billy take a job in South America. The job is easy enough, the normal terrorist bullshit that is their bread and butter, but what Frank doesn't count on is the stray that follows him back to Billy and the safehouse.





	Saviors of the World(and Dogs)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey look, I'm alive, how about that? Sorry I've been so AWOL, things haven't been great. I did manage to come up with this though, which is a new ship for me. I blame Chloe yet again and I also blame her for our newly discovered and readily shared Ben Barnes obsession. Anyway, I hope this is at least somewhat good and in character. 
> 
> Title is based off the Skillet song 'Saviors of the World'.

It was late, almost 3 am. The moon hung brightly overhead, shining down on the city below. They were in South America, had been for the last few weeks. The government bankrolling them this time was the British, intent on hunting down a terrorist who’d fled his hideout in Europe and somehow managed to make it all the way across the goddamn ocean and then some. Their agents had made it all the way to Merrakech before they’d lost track of the asshole and realized they were utterly and severely out of their depth. 

 

The hit had come in when they’d been recuperating in Hell’s Kitchen.  _ Someone  _ as in Billy, had gotten his leg messed up pretty good on their last outing, so Frank had to practically tie him to the bed to keep him off of it. In the meantime, Frank waited for a contact to reach out, (they had many from various places and backgrounds). It had been almost two weeks of rest, which was a small miracle, giving Billy time to heal and even more time to bitch about healing, so when the message came across, Frank was grateful to not have to listen to the other man complain anymore. They’d hopped a plane south and traveled all the way to Argentina. The capital was sprawling, much like the country itself. It was beautiful too, despite the sky scrapers jutting throughout most of the cityscape. It kind of reminded Frank of New York in a way. It seemed Buenos Aires had one foot in planted firmly in the present while still holding to the past. Frank, being a little old fashioned himself, could appreciate that. 

 

It took a bit of time to track down their terrorist. The guy knew how to cloak himself well, but every rat always left a trail, you just had to know how to pick it up. For his part, Billy was much more helpful than he had been before they’d left. He was great with technology, and though Frank wasn’t an idiot, the other man was definitely skilled where he wasn’t. It was easy enough to hack into whatever they needed, digging up information on the local scumbags and where they tended to gather. Every city was the same like that, they all had places where the dregs of humanity would insert themselves. 

 

It turned out their target was gathering up his assets, obviously planning an attack of some sort. It didn’t matter where it would happen, as long as they stopped it, but Frank despised the way these assholes always sought out a crowded place with plenty of innocent people for collateral damage. 

 

They found out the target was to be the Plaza de Mayo, the main square in the city and a big tourist attraction. It was easy to see that they picked a place where they could easily plant their attack and surprise many unsuspecting people out enjoying the sights. But what these assholes weren’t suspecting was that they had two trained killers prepared to ruin their plans and their day. 

 

They each picked a side of the Plaza, setting up on the rooftop with the best vantage point. From there it was easy enough to pick them off as they tried to enter to square. Their bags were dropped when they dropped, left for the police to gather. They were already disarmed anyway, Billy had taken care of that just after they’d finished making them, rigging them so that the timer worked but when the count finished, nothing happened. They were sure the authorities would handle the disposal of the materials. They also made sure to pick off the men left at their bunker, making sure nobody else would try to resurrect their little plan. By the time Frank was walking back toward their little second floor apartment, which he insisted on despite Billy protests that they could afford somewhere nicer, it was well into the night. 

 

His cohort had let him know he’d finished his end of the job a few hours ago and was probably already home and if Frank had to take a guess, already asleep. Frank, ever one to check things over twice, only went back when he was positive things were handled and no one else was at risk. He let the British government know the situation had been taken care of soon after. He need not prove their targets demise, as the bullet they would find embedded in said target’s skull was proof enough. 

 

But, instead of simply making it back home and collapsing into bed for a good few hours of sleep, Frank got a little sidetracked. 

 

The one thing that bothered Frank about Buenos Aires was the prevalence of stray dogs that wandered the less well off areas of the city. There were so many, thin and fighting over hunks of anything remotely edible, just trying to survive. 

 

Normally, Frank tried not to let himself think about it, so he wasn’t sure what was different about this time. But when the dog came up to him, sniffing curiously at his fingers, trying to see if he had any food hidden in his pockets, Frank couldn’t help the way his facade crumbled. He made sure that she had his scent before gently patting her head. She seemed pleased at this, huffing softly. He spent a few minutes petting her, before making himself continue on. 

 

He didn’t plan on her following him. 

 

Despite his best attempts to ignore and avoid her, she was persistent, following him as he wound his way back to the apartment. 

 

When Frank reached the stairs that led up to their place, he sighed and turned, watching the dog come up to him and sit at his feet. 

 

“You aren’t gonna leave me, are you?” He muttered, giving her a scratch behind her ears. 

 

The dog looked up at him with big brown eyes. Even in the waning light, he could see she was some shade of tan with white paws and a white splotch on her nose. She was thin, like the other dogs and Frank wished he had something to give to her. He chewed his lip, looking down at her. The dog seemed to understand what he was thinking, eyes peering up at him pleadingly. 

 

He sighed deeply. “Okay, okay. Come on.” 

 

He began to climb the stairs, hearing the dog’s nails clicking on the concrete as she followed him. Once at the top, he produced a key and unlocked the door, stepping inside and holding the door open so the dog could follow. He closed the door behind them, eyes quickly adjusting to the dark room. 

 

The place wasn’t huge, but it was big enough, with decent plumbing and even space for them to set up their equipment. Frank stood in the living room, which also functioned as a kitchen and dining room, a hallway shooting off to the right leading to the bathroom and bedroom.

 

Frank toed off his boots and slipped off the black jacket he wore to blend in at night. He then quietly set about getting the dog some food and something to drink, turning on a lamp as he went by. He found some leftover chicken, though from what exactly he couldn’t remember, in the fridge, which he dumped on a plate and set on the floor. The dog was on it seconds after it touched the ground. He then filled an old bowl with water from the tap, setting it down beside the chicken. 

 

He smiled softly, crouching down to gently rub his hand over her back. She seemed pleasant enough, her tail wagging as she ate her fill. “Let’s just hope Bill doesn’t have a problem with you.” 

 

When she’d finished, eating all of the chicken and drinking most of the water, Frank made his way down to the bathroom and cleaned himself up, brushing his teeth and washing the grime off his hands. 

 

He opened the bedroom door slowly, though it really wasn’t necessary, Billy could sleep through a tornado if he was tired enough. Still, Frank scanned the room before entering, ever paranoid about intruders, which, given their line of work, wasn’t entirely unlikely. 

 

Everything appeared fine, the only light in the room from the digital clock sitting on the nightstand beside the bed. Billy was nothing but a vague lump sprawled out on the mattress. 

 

So, Frank opened the door wider and went to enter the room, only to be immediately cut off by the dog, who ran into the room at top speed and headed straight for the bed. 

 

Frank had enough time to curse before she’d jumped up and promptly began licking Billy absolutely anywhere she could reach and sniffing every inch of him. Apparently, Bill had not be as tired as Frank thought because as soon as that happened, there was an almighty, ‘What in the fuck?!’ and Billy was squirming to avoid more slobbery kisses. 

 

“Frank?! Frank, what the shit is this?!”

 

Frank found himself chuckling. “Uh, that would be a dog, Bill.”

 

“Yeah, asshole, I got that part! Where the fuck did it come from?!”

 

Frank shrugged, moving to turn on the light. Billy blinked at the sudden brightness, still fending off the excited dog while clad in nothing but a pair of boxers. He’d gone for the knife stashed under the pillow but had abandoned it upon realizing he wasn’t about to have an attempt on his life. 

 

“She followed me home so I let her in and gave her something to eat.” The dog woofed and narrowly missed whacking Bill in the face with her tail.

Frank’s partner looked to be somewhere between angry and amused. 

 

“So you just thought we could use a fucking dog? There’s a million fucking dogs out there, you know that, right Frankie? You can’t save them fucking all. And how the hell are we supposed to take care of a damn dog given what we do?”

 

Frank crossed his arms. “Come on, don’t you see she likes you, dipshit? We can at least figure out a name for her and place for her to go, can’t we? The job’s done, we can do that.” 

 

Billy leveled him with a scathing look that started dissolve when Frank returned one of his own, daring his other half to make a better argument. 

 

In the end, Billy withered beneath his gaze, sighing as he reached a hand up to pet the dog’s head. “Fine.” He muttered, defeated. 

 

Frank’s face broke out into a genuine smile, a thing few people could manage to pull out of him. Billy was the most notorious exception to rule. Dogs came second and good food was a sold third. 

 

Able to rest easy now, Frank came to the empty side of the bed, setting down and allowing Bill to come in close and press their lips together. 

 

“You are such a pain in my ass, Frankie.” 

 

Frank let out an amused huff. “Nah, that term was invented to describe you, Bill.”

 

Billy leaned over to turn out the light. It was only then that he saw another problem. 

 

“The fucking dog is not sleeping in the bed with us.”

 

“Her name is Daisy, and yeah she fucking is.”

 

Billy rolled his eyes in the darkness but resigned himself to the fact that he was going to be cuddling a damn dog tonight and not his boyfriend. 

**Author's Note:**

> Come yell at me on Tumblr sometime, I'm @frankcastlesmuscles


End file.
